At some point, about three hours before the end of her working day, Annika felt that she could not bear it any more. She had to get it off her chest, so she asked to leave early. She was going home as a surprise without knowing whether it would be a good or a bad surprise. The only hopeful thing was that, if Stefan's ultimatum about the two options was true, then he wouldn’t commit suicide and they’d all live, including the baby.
****
Annika walked home because she needed time and fresh air to clear her mind. She had lots of confused thoughts fighting each other in her head, unclear and diverse feelings in her soul and a tiny baby embryo in her belly.
While she was climbing the stairs, she did not know what state Stefan would be in, nor how he would react to her surprise. But what then happened, she could not have predicted at all. There was a counter-surprise from Stefan. A surprise...or a blow... or a punch... or a....
She opened the door with her keys and hoped things wouldn't go too badly. But things were far worse than she could possibly have imagined.
Their bedroom was loud with aggressive music. She entered the room and froze. She could not breathe, she could not move, she could not make a sound... What she saw was worse than a blow, worse than a punch and worse than death... She could not believe her eyes, although she was 100% certain that what she saw was real, logical and true...
The unwrapped heroin papers were tossed on the bedroom floor, the needles were on the small table next to the bed but the most “interesting” sight was on the bed itself. There Stefan was fucking one of Annika's best friends. No, he was not making love to her, he was fucking her – and there is a huge difference between the two.
Annika just stood there, frozen. The only things that moved were the tears sliding down her cheeks. There was a dull noise in her ears and she could not hear much more. Stefan jumped to his feet and the girl covered herself and stayed in bed looking at Annika with horror in her eyes. At least she had brains enough to keep silent. But Stefan was talking nonstop just as he had on the day when his car had hit her at the bus stop.
“Annika, please, let me explain!” as if it were possible to explain anything.
He spoke and at the same time tried to put on his jeans, hopping on one foot. He looked miserable and ridiculous at the same time. Nor did he look so handsome any more, half naked and with fear in his eyes. Annika did not see Kurt Cobain any longer. All she saw was a fucked-up drug addict.
“Please, calm down,” as if it were Annika panicking instead of him.
Annika recalled what she had been planning to tell him; in this situation that news became totally ironic. She thought of the baby inside her and felt like throwing up right there in the middle of the bedroom. The bedroom, which had been their paradise before it had become a living hell.
Finally Annika came out of her state of paralysis. She had dropped her bag when she saw them and the sound had made the couple jump up in bed. Now Annika grabbed her bag from the floor and ran out of the apartment.
Stefan rushed after her, trying to stop her. All Annika wanted was to get away and be as far from him as possible. He was reaching her and pulling her hand to stop. She was pushing him away with her hand out and running away again. Annika did not say a word and her tears were blurring her vision.
“I won’t let you go! Please stop. Calm down,” Stefan knew he was shouting nonsense, but did not know what else he could do. What he knew for sure was that if he let her go, most probably she would never come back again. And that was something he had to prevent at all costs.
Annika ran into the street and continued running. Heavy spring rain was pouring down. Stefan ran to the car, turned on the engine and drove after her. He opened the passenger window when he reached her, slowed down and driving next to Annika asked her to get in and talk.
Annika did not want to talk. When she wanted to talk he was never alone, never available and never sober. Now it was too late and she knew that this was the end. No matter what he said, nothing would ever be the same again. Everything was over; nothing was left to rehabilitate, nothing to try for, and nothing worth saving...
Annika was completely soaked by the heavy raindrops, but she did not even notice. Stefan's voice and the car driving beside her irritated her, she wanted them to disappear. She wanted to disappear herself in order not to feel what she felt – the extreme pain. She was totally crushed.
“I will not let you go, do you understand?” Stefan shouted at her through the window.
Annika felt rage inside – who was he, after what he'd done, to decide what she should do? How could he, after what he'd done, have the gall to talk to her at all? And the constant question WHY? turning in her mind and torturing her inside.... WHY? WHY? WHY?
When she could take this no more, she stopped, turned around to face the car and cried at the top of her lungs
“I HATE YOU!!!”
Stefan looked at her in disbelief. He felt as if she had stabbed him with a knife... He lost his breath for a few seconds. Then the shock and the heroin kicked in, and a crazy look came into his eyes. He shouted back
“I won't let you go, even if you hate me,” and floored the accelerator. He drove at her.
Annika watched the car coming at her but she did not move.
It was a déjà vu, with the difference that this time Annika was not standing at the bus stop, Stefan was not a stranger and he was not trying to save the situation. This time it was deliberate.
She was not afraid to die. He had killed her already... She was already dead inside, so one more car accident would not hurt her more... At least that's what she thought back then...
Destiny had brought them together, through spring rain and his car driving at her. Now destiny was using the same tools - spring rain and the black car - to push them apart forever.
11
Annika opened her eyes and looked around. There were blank white walls and a small window on her right through which the sun’s rays were coming into the room... She was lying in a strange bed.
After a few years of working in a hospital, she knew how they smelled and she immediately understood where she was.
Her body and head ached. Someone was holding her hand. Her gaze followed her hand and landed on Stefan's face. He was extremely pale, his hands were shaking and his eyes were full of tears.
It took her a few minutes to recall the previous events and once they were back she pulled her hand out of his and turned her face away. Instinctively she put her hand on her belly, as if trying to guess how the baby was doing. She could not feel or know, but it was a nice try.
That small action illustrated the priorities she had at the moment. Since her past sat next to her, she intuitively tried to concentrate on the future.
The door opened and a middle-aged man in a light blue gown entered the room. He smiled at Annika and checked her forehead.
“Welcome back,” he said.
“Thanks,” she answered with a frozen voice.
Stefan was very tense. He felt the tension in the doctor's behavior and waited for the verdict.
“You will be better in two weeks from now, but there is something I have to tell both of you.”
Annika's breath stopped, she closed her eyes and tried to prepare for the worst.
“You’ve lost the baby,” the doctor’s voice was very matter-of-fact. It seemed as if he just needed to get it off his chest, do it fast and leave the room. Maybe the man knew that whatever he said would not help and would only aggravate matters further. So he had completed his mission and hurried out.
Stefan was looking at the floor. Annika started crying silently. The tears rolled down her cheeks and she gave herself over completely to her grief.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Stefan barely whispered.
“Didn’t manage to catch you at the right moment. You were either filling your veins or fucking other people,” Annika answered in an absent voice, without looking at him – more as if she was talking to herself than answeri
ng Stefan’s question.
Stefan realised that she was right. He’d never really seen the situation for what it was. Now he felt a complete asshole... He bent over Annika, kissed her lips and, feeling lost and empty, left the room.
****
Annika spent a few days in hospital. During those days Stefan did not come to visit her. He sent her flowers and notes every day instead. Annika gave the flowers to the nurses and burnt the notes without reading them.
When she became strong enough and could go home, Annika went to reception and called her parents. They came to pick her up few minutes later. They were shocked and worried, even though they did not get to hear anything of what had really happened. The version they bought was that Annika had broken up with Stefan and that she was walking, upset and not paying any attention, when she got knocked over by a drunk hit-and-run driver. The mere fact that she was alive was reason enough not to dig deeper. Now their little girl would be with them and they’d take care of her.
After Annika returned home she spent most of her time crying in her room. She was devastated and felt permanent pain. Her soul was aching, her heart was broken and her life had no meaning any more. The process of getting over it, hadn’t even started, because Annika realised that it would never end.
Stefan called her every day, but she didn’t answer her phone. Only once did she answer it, to tell him she was leaving the country for ever, that she did not want to say good-bye in person and that he should not try to find her.
After that, she changed her number. It was officially and totally over. At least for the record...
Annika did not leave the country, of course. She was desperately trying to regain her self-composure and get herself back on an even keel and make sense of her life, and she did her best not to think about the lost baby.
Nevertheless, she spent ages imagining whether it would have been a girl or a boy. After she had convinced herself that it was a girl, she tried to imagine what the baby would have looked like, what Annika would have called her and what colour her eyes would have been....
Annika's thoughts made her pain stronger, her sadness was unbearable and life was miserable.
She cried rivers. She cried for Stefan and for what they had had together and how they had lost it all. She cried for the emptiness she felt inside. And she cried for herself – the happy young woman who in a fraction of a second had become lost, crushed and destroyed.
Annika spent weeks crying the sorrow away. Her eyes were red and swollen most of the time. At some point she even wanted to die...
12
Sadly troubles never come alone. It seems as if they call out to each other and gang up at the same time in a person's life. And in most cases it is at the least expected moment.
Annika's and Stefan's town had a famous gipsy mafia honcho, who called himself King Chicho. He ran everything and everyone in town and spread trouble. Everybody tried to avoid him or, in case that first option was not possible, to please him.
Annika had never heard of him since she spent most of her time either at work, or with Stefan and his drug buddies. Even Stefan didn’t know about King Chicho since drugs had kept him so high he was completely out of touch with reality.
One day this King's wife had some problems with her health and turned up at the hospital where Annika was working. Worse still, the woman came in when it was Annika’s shift and Annika had to examine her.
When Annika entered the room she saw that the woman looked like a gipsy and was behaving very strangely but she paid no attention. A patient is a patient no matter where she’s from, who she is and what she does in life. Everybody is equal in the face of disease.
When King Chico’s wife saw Annika, she looked her up and down with a scornful expression on her face, then stood up, extended her hand to be shaken and introduced herself
“Queen Selka,” she announced with a voice full of dignity and pride.
Annika thought the woman had either to be crazy or else she was pulling her leg, so she replied with equal dignity and pride
“Princess Annika,” which she found amusing.
“What? Are you mocking me?” the woman cried at Annika, snatching back her hand, turning all red and storming out, mouthing angry words in a foreign language that Annika did not understand.
Annika stared at the closed door, thought for a few seconds and, not finding any logical explanation, decided to forget the whole story since she did not want to spoil her mood over such a trifling incident. She did not realise then that not only would the incident not be forgotten but that it would also determine Annika's future career.
****
A few hours later the director of the hospital rang Annika before her shift was over and asked her to come and see him.
“Hi,” Annika entered the room with a big smile on her face. It was amazing how she could keep her positive mood with all the pain she had in her life at that moment.
“Hi Annika,” the director had a sad look in his eyes. He was a very kind, middle-aged man who was known for his fair attitude and judgments.
“Why did you mock Selka today? Didn’t you know you were playing with fire and nothing good would come of it?”
“What do you mean?” asked Annika, having no clue what he was talking about.
“You don’t know who Selka is?”
“No.” Annika's innocent look told him that she was not lying.
The director was amazed; he had not even considered that option and thought that Annika had done it on purpose. So, things were actually even worse than he had first thought.
Nevertheless he did what he was told to do. He fired Annika.
13
After getting fired, Annika could not stand staying at home any longer and a friend helped her find a job at a trade-fair reception/information desk. She received the visitors at a desk as they came in, and explained what was where. The job was not inspiring and she really missed her patients but for the time being it was the best she could get. The depression she was in needed some distraction in order to become bearable and the job helped. But that alone was not enough, of course. She lacked communication, interaction and people in her life. Annika was an outgoing person and being isolated only made things worse.
Back then very few people had a computer at home, let alone a computer connected to the internet. That was a completely new and unknown concept, used only by programmers.
In her new job she became acquainted with a few programmers, and they helped her buy a computer and connect it to the internet. Now Annika had a space where she could escape from reality. There she ran no risk of bumping into Stefan, from whom she was hiding by going to places he never went and going out at times when she knew for sure he’d be asleep.
Her escape was to visit a chat room where programmers met and talked. There were about ten of them. They were always the same people talking to each other every day, sharing their thoughts, ideas and experiences. Nothing very exciting or inspiring since everyone apart from Annika was a programmer.
After work she was mainly at home. On the very rare occasions she went out, she picked places where she was certain that Stefan would never show up. As soon as it was time for Stefan’s fix, Annika would shut herself up at home, just to be on the safe side.
At home she was mainly in the programmers’ chat room, talking to the nice intelligent programmers, who were mainly pretty shy and not really at all hot!
It was yet another ordinary depressing, painful day. Annika came home from work, ate an apple instead of dinner with her family and shut herself up in her room. She sat on the bed and opened her laptop, for which she had paid all the savings she had.
“Guys, is there anyone out there who knows anything about the procedure for registering a will?”
That was the first thing she saw on the screen. The question had been posted by someone using the nickname Saviour. This was someone new, because she knew all ten of the regulars.
“Why do you need to write a will?�
�� she asked, since she could not imagine someone with a mortal disease spending his limited time in a chat room.
“Because in two days’ time, I am going bungee jumping with friends and you never know what might happen,” the reply appeared on the screen.
“So you are rich, then? So rich that you worry about who will get the money after you die?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then why are you so worried about the will?”
“I have a lot of brilliant but unrealised ideas, which I don’t want to share with other people yet – unless something happens to me. If it did, it would be a pity to take those ideas with me.”
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